


Classic Literature

by MalpracticeMakesPerfect



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: Language, M/M, animal death mention, drug mention, this story is comedic i swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-04
Updated: 2014-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-07 11:42:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1897692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalpracticeMakesPerfect/pseuds/MalpracticeMakesPerfect
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some books just shouldn’t be read by some people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Classic Literature

**Author's Note:**

> Quick Warning! As the title implies there will be mentions of classic books in this story, particularly the endings. So, while many people have already read these, I don’t want anyone to be upset because I spoiled it for them. So! Just assume that if you see the title of a book its ending will be spoiled. Thank you!

            Ishimaru panted as he sped through the dark streets on his bicycle. His mind was in a whirl, his heart pounding like it was trying to escape his chest, his breathing erratic, echoing the raw panic he was feeling. He was not in the bike lane, it was ten o’clock at night, _and_ _it was a school night_. However, these things paled in comparison to the reason he was out on the streets that night. Tonight he was pushing himself to the limit to get to Mondo in time. Before it was too late. Before the worst happened.

            The worst part about the entire situation was that it was Ishimaru’s fault. He knew this. He could admit it. His actions were the reason Mondo was in such peril. He felt tears pick at his eyes. Such good intentions completely dashed by the cruel hand of fate. He wheezed, picking up the pace and praying he’d get there in time.

***

            It all started the day before. He and Mondo were in their last class of the day: literature class. Their optional reading lists for extra credit had just been passed out. Ishimaru couldn’t have been more thrilled. They were short a few copies and their teacher stepped out for a moment to go make a few more. Meanwhile, Ishimaru had started looking over the list joyfully. After a moment, he brought a set of colored highlighters in order to mark the books he intended to read. Each color represented a level of priority. The books he had not read came first, then the ones he had read only a few times, then his favorites- the ones he had read countless times when he had free time to pursue such pleasurable pursuits, then the books he had read and did not enjoy.

            He had been so busy arranging his list and planning out how much time he would need in order to finish reading each book, he did not notice that Mondo was watching him. The biker had previously been lounging back in his chair, hands behind his head and not really paying attention to the teacher as she outlined the extra credit assignment. Once she was gone, he sat up, watching Ishimaru’s process, an eyebrow raised.

            He leaned over his desk to get a better look at what his boyfriend was doing in front of him. After a second he shook his head, plopping back into his seat. “Shit, man I don’t know why you bother reading any of that garbage,” he said with a snort, grabbing his own list and looking over the suggestions with a roll of his eyes.

            Ishimaru turned around in his chair to look at Mondo. “Swearing is not permitted in the classroom!” he started with a stern look.

            “Doesn’t answer my question.” Mondo replied, unfazed by the chiding. He slapped the paper he was holding with the back of his hand, “Garbage, read, why?”

            Ishimaru inhaled quickly, an offended look on his face. “These classics are _anything_ but garbage, bro! Besides,” he said with a meaningful look, “They are for extra credit, which could greatly improve your grade in this class.”

            Mondo let out a groan, “Yeah I know I could use the extra points. But reading anything from this steaming pile? Yeah, no thanks.”

Ishimaru made a pained noise in the back of his throat, standing to move behind Mondo’s chair, gesturing at the list, “All of the books on this list are masterpieces that have stood the test of time!”

            “Masterpieces, huh?” Mondo grunted, skeptically eyeing the page, “More like snooze fests. Picked up a couple of these my second year here. Got about two pages into each before falling asleep. Both times. Great tool for insomniacs, maybe. But entertainment? Psh. Get real.”

            Ishimaru’s brows furrowed. Pausing for a moment, he contemplated Mondo’s back. The biker was about to crumple his list when a thought occurred to the hall monitor. “Wait! Mondo, which book did you attempt to read? Was it one on this list?” he asked, grabbing Mondo’s wrist to stop him from destroying the list of precious books.

            Mondo let out a long-suffering sigh, casting Ishimaru a look before deciding to humor him. “Fuck, I dunno,” he said, scanning the list for a minute. “Uh… yeah. The first one was Moby Dick, but that was just because I liked the name.” He let out a chuckle. Ishimaru simply sighed at the immature humor and gestured for him to continue.

Mondo shrugged. “The other was Great Expectations. No idea what kinda “expectations” I was supposed to have but it didn’t live up to _any_ of them,” he quipped with a sneer at the name on the page.

            Ishimaru, however, smiled, opening his arms enthusiastically, “There it is! I have discovered your problem!”

            “Wha?” Mondo asked, turning to look at his beaming boyfriend, “What do you mean by “my problem.” It sounds like bullsh-”

“Language.”

“crap? I mean, the fuc-”                                

            “Language!”

“- _What_ kinda problem do I have other than getting’ bored to death with this shi-”

            “ _Language!_ ” Ishimaru warned loudly, cutting Mondo off for the third time and earning them a few looks from two or three people. Most ignored it, though, and continued with their own conversations. By now they were all so used to Ishimaru or Mondo having one kind of outburst or another, it would almost be stranger if they _didn’t_ hear some form of yelling from that area of the classroom.

            “I _GET IT_ ,” Mondo yelled back exasperatedly. He let out a short groan before adding in a tone that had just the faintest sound of pleading to it, “Just _tell me_ my problem!”

            Ishimaru looked torn between getting back to his explanation and getting onto Mondo for his language and shouting. The explanation won out and Ishimaru took Mondo’s list from him, showing it to him as he spoke. “Your issue is that neither of your choices were particularly geared to your interests.”

            He paused, looking to see if his point had been made. When Mondo just looked at him with a bewildered expression, he pushed on. “Both of those stories, while classics, were not necessarily about anything you were interested in. While this is not always necessary, if one is having trouble finding motivation to read it can be a helpful tool!”

            Mondo took the paper back from Ishimaru, looking at it again. His face was still skeptical, but he seemed to be mulling over what Ishimaru said.

            Ishimaru was about to ask what Mondo was thinking, but at that moment their teacher came back in. Ishimaru was almost instantly back in his seat, prepped and ready to take notes.

            After class, Ishimaru and Mondo walked home as per their usual schedule. He still refused to get on the motorcycle, so Mondo simply pushed the bike next to him for the short walk. The hall monitor did his best to encourage Mondo to try and look into the books on the reading list. However, all he could get from Mondo was the vague promise that Mondo might consider looking at his options… maybe. Figuring that was the best he was going to get from Mondo that day, he moved onto other topics. There was always the entirety of the next day to try and talk the biker into giving one of the books a try.

            They reached his home and Mondo followed him all the way to the shabby door, finishing a story he had been telling. The two shared a laugh and Mondo said his goodbye. Before the biker could turn away, Ishimaru managed to get a hold of the front of his jacket, pulling the taller boy down to kiss him. He chuckled a little bit as Mondo jolted in surprise before relaxing into the kiss. When they said goodbye, it was almost always up to Ishimaru to advance on Mondo. The biker normally was too embarrassed or flustered to do it himself when they were in public. Or what he deemed to be “public,” which was basically anywhere that wasn’t a completely empty room. Personally, Ishimaru had never had a problem with instigating their goodnight kiss. They were not on school property so therefore they were not breaking any of the rules regarding PDA on school property. At school he had to set a good example. On his front step, he was free to do as he wished.

            Besides, he needed the practice. Their first kissing endeavor had been… well... It had been nice enough at the time; both were a little too enthralled by the fact that they had actually kissed each other to complain about anything. But it had definitely been distinctly awkward… and messy. He had been admittedly worse at it than Mondo. He was all sweat and nerves and tears mixed into one. He fumbled and did _not know where to put his hands_. Like, what did his hands even do most of the time? Because they were all over the place and they seemed to have absolutely nowhere to go. Not to mention, his heart was pounding out of his chest and he also had to worry about having a heart attack right on the spot and had they even learned how to deal with that in first aid? He didn’t think so. Furthermore, how was _he_ supposed to know that you were supposed to _open_ your _mouth_ while kissing? Who even thought to _do_ something like that in the first place??

            However, despite his rather spectacular failure of a first kiss, he wasn’t going to let it beat him. Like everything that he did, he set himself to mastering kissing. The practice had been helping. He had very much improved. At least, if the small sounds coming from Mondo’s mouth were any indication he had.

            He felt himself relax, humming happily against Mondo’s lips. A soft moan came from Ishimaru’s mouth and he stepped closer so the biker could wrap his arms around him. Mondo picked up on the offer almost instantly; pulling Ishimaru even deeper into the kiss with a loud groan.

            They eventually broke apart, both breathless and blushing.  Ishimaru beamed up at his boyfriend, pleased with himself. “Be sure to think about what I said! You might find something you like on that reading list, you know!” He lectured, “AND! Be sure to drive safely! No speeding!”

            “Yeah! Yeah, sure!” Mondo half-yelled distractedly, flustered by their impromptu make out session. After leaning down for another quick kiss, Mondo let go and moved back to his bike, still blushing furiously. Ishimaru waved until Mondo had sped off down the street and out of sight. After a moment of staring at the corner the gang leader had disappeared around, he went inside.

            He had just enough time to finish all of his studies, work on his projects, send updates on club activities through e-mail, read the first chapters of the first book he had assigned himself, and run through his schedule for the next day before going to bed as his scheduled time. He had gotten so wrapped up in his own world; it didn’t even occur to him that he had not heard from Mondo at all. Normally Mondo liked to text or call him. It was to make sure he “wasn’t working _too_ hard” as Mondo put it. The idea of working too hard was, of course, preposterous. However, that never stopped Mondo from pestering him anyway.

            Tonight, though, was silent. That was not completely uncommon. Sometimes Mondo had Crazy Diamond business to attend to and, naturally, Ishimaru would not hear from him. Therefore, he thought nothing of it and slept soundly.

***

            He woke of bright and early, like usual, fresh and ready to start the day. He recalled as he walked to class, that Mondo had not given him a direct answer about the extra-credit reading assignment. He resolved to get a yes from the biker, even if it took all day.

            Much to his chagrin, he did not see any sign of Mondo in class. In fact, as the day passed, Ishimaru discovered that the biker had apparently decided to _completely_ skip school that day.

            Finally, the day started coming to an end. Ishimaru entered his literature class with a mix of anticipation and annoyance. After one look around the room, it was clear that Mondo was absent. He had given Mondo the benefit of the doubt, hoping that he would show up for at least _one_ of his classes. But it would seem that he had been unrealistically optimistic. He sighed into his literature textbook. Mondo was completely incorrigible at times. He would give the biker a call directly after class, he decided. _Someone_ needed to hold him accountable for skipping school.

            However his plans were interrupted. For as he was leaving class, getting ready to pull out his phone and give his boyfriend the lecture of his life, he caught sight of Hagakure slipping something suspiciously cigarette-shaped into his pocket. Hall monitor senses on high alert, Ishimaru removed his hand from his pocket and took off after the would-be clairvoyant. He followed Hagakure through the crowd of students exiting their classes for the day, fast walking to avoid breaking the “no running in the halls rule.”

            He lost sight of Hagakure as the lanky student went outside. Ishimaru exited the building only a moment after Hagakure, but the clairvoyant was gone. He looked around for him, wondering how on earth he could loose track of someone _that_ tall with _that_ kind of hair.

            Just as he was about to give it up as a loss, he managed to catch a glimpse of a familiar green jacket whipping around the side of the building. He quickly ran down the steps and turned the corner, near sliding on the grass in his haste. He was relieved to see that it was indeed Hagakure, and that the student had stopped a little ways down the building. His large, chaotic mess of hair splayed out against the bricks as Hagakure leaned against the wall.

            “Hagakure!” he called, his voice causing a few birds to fly, startled and squawking, out of a nearby bush.

            Hagakure started so violently a couple of playing cards fell from his pockets. His head whipped around in a cartoonish kind of motion. The turn was made even more dramatic by his hair, which followed the motion in a bouncing, sweeping ark around his head. It gave his head the appearance of one of the inflatable dancing men that could be found in use-car parking lots for advertising.

            Hagakure’s eyes widened as he saw who it was. “Oh! H-hey there Ishimaru!” he said, a little _too_ exuberantly, waving both hands at the hall monitor, pushing himself off the wall, “Fancy seeing you here. Thought you were probably off doing… something else. That, you know _wasn’t_ around here.” He laughed uncomfortably, glancing over his shoulder as if contemplating making a run for it.

            “No I am most certainly here. Not anywhere else,” Ishimaru said, looking sternly at the nervous Hagakure, “The question is what are _you_ doing here?”

            “Uh, you know. Hanging out, chilling, trying to channel my chi and stuff,” Hagakure said, taking several few steps back, not bothering to pick up the few cards that had fallen from his pockets, “But I am _all_ chi’ed up, my friend. I am channeled _out_. So I’m probably going to go. Nice seeing yo-”

            “Wait!” Ishimaru shouted, pointing a finger at Hagakure, who froze on the spot, a foot still raised in the air. Ishimaru advanced on him. Once he was directly in front of the tall student, he looked up at him and crossed his arms, “Turn out your pockets.”

            “What? Why would you want to see what’s in my pockets?”

            “Turn out your pockets this _instant_ Hagakure or I shall turn them out _for you_!” Ishimaru declared, his authoritative tone coming across more like a cross mother than a stern law enforcer, but it made his point well enough.

            Knowing Ishimaru would probably make good on his word if he didn’t comply, Hagakure started fishing things out of his pockets. A crystal ball, tarot cards, playing cards, and MP3 player, a phone, a condom (unused and unopened to the relief of all parties involved in that particular moment), a comb with half the tines snapped off- the list went on.

            “ _All_ , of your pockets,” Ishimaru said, looking pointedly at the inner jacket pocket he had seen Hagakure put the suspicious items.

            Hagakure sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat. Slowly he pulled out not one but _two_ cigarette-shaped rolls.

            “Hand them over.”

            The rolls were dropped into his outstretched hand and he inspected them carefully. They were not ordinary cigarettes. That was clear after one look at them. In a businesslike manner he bent one of the two, splitting it open. This elicited a small noise of pain from Hagakure, which was promptly ignored by Ishimaru. He inspected the brown and green leaves that were inside the packages for a moment before the furrow between his eyebrows became more pronounced. In one smooth motion, he pulled a baggy marked “evidence” out of one of his pockets and dropped both of the joints into it.

            He looked up at the older studnet, who had accepted his fate at this point and was waiting quietly for the end to come. “Drugs? You brought _drugs_ onto school property! That is a violation of one of the _most important_ rules of this institution!”

            “Oh come on, man. It’s just a _little_ weed. It’s totally harmless. It’s not serious like crack. You know I’d never get into that kind of stuff, much less bring it around here.”

            “Marihuana is _still_ a drug, regardless of its reputation,” Ishimaru raised his hands in air quotes, “ ‘on the streets’ as it were. It is still an illegal substance! It is imperative that you understand that the rules are not up to interpretation!” Ishimaru planted a hand in his fist, impassioned speech coming to an end. He looked expectantly at Hagakure, piercing eyes demanding a response.

            Hagakure sighed, putting a hand on the back of his neck and nodding, “Yeah I understand.”

            Ishimaru gave a curt nod back. “We shall go to see the administrative offices in just a moment. However, I need to write you up before we do so.” He tucked the bag of evidence away and pulled out his detention slip pad. For a moment there was silence, no noise but the faith scratching of Ishimaru’s pen over the paper. It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

            So quiet, in fact, that both Ishimaru and Hagakure could easily hear every word Leon said as he rounded the corner, “Hey Hagakure, I could really use some of that grass. You will not _believe_ the day-”

            The baseball star clammed up as soon as his brain processed the scene in front of him. Ishimaru had turned almost instantly, his eyes gleaming dangerously. Behind the furious Ishimaru, Hagakure had a pained expression on his face, a hand raised in a desperate attempt to stop what had already happened.

            “… _shit_ ,” Leon managed to get out before he was bowled over by the shouting hall monitor.

            For the next three hours, Ishimaru was completely preoccupied with: chewing Leon and Hagakure out about the dangers or drug use, taking them to the administrative office, explaining the situation to the high school officials, handing over the contraband to be disposed of properly, and personally overseeing Hagakure and Leon’s detention sentence.

            Once he was finished with doing his civic duty, he sprinted home. Even running, it was dark by the time he reached his front door. Panting and sweaty, he walked into his house. After letting his mother know he was home and the reasons for his lateness, he went straight to his room, already pulling out his notebook. There was no time for eating when he had so much to do. He sighed as he walked into his small but immaculate room. He made a b-line for his desk, sitting and placing the notebook open in front of him. He was so far behind on his schedule. He would most likely have to do some serious arranging if he was going to get back on track. Most likely, he would have to stay up all night.

            He had just gotten settled and down to business when he remembered. Mondo! Mondo had skipped school! He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his phone, pressing the “one” button down until the phone started to ring. The ring sounded off six times before Mondo picked up, just as Ishimaru was starting to get worried the biker wouldn’t pick up at all.

            “Yo.”

            “Mondo this is Ishimaru. I-”

            “I know who it is Kiyo I have caller ID.”

            “That doesn’t matter!” Ishimaru said, waving his hand dismissively even though Mondo couldn’t see it, “You skipped school today!”

            “Yeah,” Ishimaru could hear the reluctant embarrassment in his tone, “I… got busy with… some stuff…”

            “What kind of ‘stuff’ could be more important than school? Your education is paramount to any frivolous activities. Not to mention you-”

            “Look I took your advice, okay? I was reading one of those ‘classics’ on the list.” Mondo admitted with a sigh into the phone.

            Ishimaru blinked, taken aback. “What? _Really_?” he asked, not sure if he should be skeptical.

            “Yes _really_. I decided last night to check out some of the books on the list, looked up some info online. I… I got caught up in reading a it and forgot to go,” the embarrassment was definitely there now. He could just see the biker rubbing the back of his neck with an annoyed and uncomfortable expression on his face as he admitted what he had been doing. “I’ve been reading almost all day,” he mumbled reluctantly into the phone.

            Ishimaru sat in silence, torn. On one hand he wanted to scold Mondo for skipping an entire day of class. It was careless and undisciplined of him. On the other, he was completely thrilled that Mondo had _actually_ been reading one of the classics _of his own volition_. Mondo read things, yes, but normally they were trashy novels or magazines about motorcycles.

            Taking Ishimaru’s silence for the indecision it was, Mondo added, “Besides, last week I didn’t even skip a class. Full five days, no cutting. I thought I deserved a break. You were the one who gave me the idea anyway. It was really good advice, for what it’s worth. I’m diggin’ this book. It’s fuckin’ great.”

            Ishimaru smiled, pride and flattery winning over his values for the moment. His voice radiated with excitement, “I am pleased to hear that you found my suggestion to be helpful! Also that you have found a book in the classics that appeals to your interests! Which one is it?”

            “Ah man!” Mondo said, his voice light up as well, “It’s this great old book called Old Yeller. I saw it was a book about a dog, right? So I’m like ‘yeah okay sure I love dogs I’ll try this shit out.’ This is just, it’s friggin amazing. The kid and the dog. They just- it’s just- _man_. The guy who wrote this book just _gets it_ , you know? Reminds me of Chuck I- I’m not gonna lie I’m getting’ teary with how much it reminds me of me an’ him. It’s just so great.”

            Ishimaru’s smile had vanished at the title of the book. He listened as Mondo rambled. Did he know? Had he finished it yet? If he had not it was his _duty_ to warn him. As both his brother and his boyfriend. “Mondo, have you finished this book yet?” he asked, cold dread filling him.

            “Nah not yet, but I’m close! I’m at a fuckin’ intense part. It’s why I almost missed your call. Right now there’s this big-ass wolf and-”

            “Mondo there is something you need to know about the end of that book,” Ishimaru cut him off quickly, his heart icy with terror.

            “Wha? No way man! No spoilers! Not when I’m so close! I want to read it for myself.”

            “NO MONDO! It is imperative that you hear what I have to say! At the end-”

            “STOP! Shut your mouth Kiyotaka! One more word and I _hang up_!”

            “BUT MONDO I _NEED_ TO TELL YOU WHAT HAPPEN-”

            “GOODBYE TALK TO YOU LATER!”

            And with that, Ishimaru was listening to a dial tone.

***

            So here he was, desperately trying to reach Mondo before the worst happened. He had shouted something to he mother on his way out. He didn’t even know what he had said. What excuse his frantic mind had spouted at her before speeding out the door was anyone’s guess. All he knew is that he needed to get to Mondo before he read the end of that book. He needed to be brought down gently.

            He leapt off his bike as he reached the apartment complex, not even bothering to use the kickstand or even lean it against the wall as he sprinted inside. He decided to use the stairs since the elevator was slower than the littlest old lady driving the oldest, most broken-down Volkswagen imaginable in the slow lane.

            Flying up the stairs in record time, Ishimaru reached Mondo’s door, gasping for air. Not taking even the slightest moment to catch his breath, he pounded loudly on the door, not caring who he disturbed.

            He stopped for a moment, trying to listen for any signs of life in the apparent. One agonizing minute later, he heard sounds of movement from within. His eyes widened and he shouted, “Mondo? It’s Kiyotaka! Please open the door!” There was a beat. Then the sound of the deadbolt being unlocked could be heard. The door opened and Ishimaru braced himself for the worst.

            Standing in front of him was Mondo. He must have been telling the truth about staying in the house reading all day, because he hadn’t bothered to get dressed or style his hair into his usual pompadour. Instead, his hair was simply pulled back into a messy ponytail. He was bare-chested, only wearing some sweats, obviously having lounged in them for the entire day. Mondo didn’t need to speak, his expression told Ishimaru all he needed to know. It was frozen somewhere between shock, horror, and disbelief. He stared at Ishimaru, almost like he couldn’t process exactly who it was.

            Ishimaru took a hesitant step in, closing the door behind him. He looked up at Mondo, trying to guess what he was feeling. With slow, deliberate motions, he carefully rested a hand on Mondo’s arm. “Mondo?” he started, his voice slow and gentle as if Mondo would bolt like a frightened animal, “Bro? Are you alright?”

            Mondo finally came out of his shocked stupor. He blinked, looking at Ishimaru more directly. His eyes started to tear up. “He- they- the gun,” he stammered, choking on the rising lump in his throat.

            Ishimaru nodded with a wince of sympathy, tears pricking at his own eyes. He slowly rubbed Mondo’s arm, “I know.”

            Mondo looked away, biting his lip and obviously trying to control himself. It was futile, they both knew it was futile, and the dam broke. Mondo threw himself onto Ishimaru, who nearly fell over with the sudden weight. He managed to take a step back, giving him a little leverage against Mondo’s heavy body in his arms. Mondo sobbed, clutching onto Ishimaru like a lifeline. “He killed him! Oh GOD he killed his dog!” Mondo wailed, the force of his sobs shaking his body.

            Ishimaru burst into tears as well. He kept Mondo upright through sheer force of will, hugging him in the small space just inside Mondo’s door. “It’s okay it’s going to be okay,” he murmured to the distraught gang leader.

            “ _Fuck_. Why’d they have to kill him? Who the fuck _does_ that? Why the fuck would you kill the _dog_? Reading _sucks,_ I am never reading _anything_ again. _SHIT._ ”

            Ishimaru kept quiet, feeling responsible for Mondo’s current distress. He continued to mutter comforting words to him, running a hand through his hair.

            Eventually, the worst of Mondo’s tears subsided. He was still crying, but not clutching onto Ishimaru as tightly. Ishimaru took the opportunity to move him into his bedroom. As they entered, Ishimaru noted the overturned desk in the corner and the book in the trash. They were signs of the first wave of anger Mondo must have felt after reading the end of that accursed book.

            He sat Mondo down on the bed, who made no protest as Ishimaru left him there. The hall monitor took a few minutes to pick up the desk and rearrange it to some kind of order. He left the book in the trash, knowing it would only upset Mondo if he touched it right now. It was a library book, but he would just smuggle it out of the apartment and turn it back in later. Satisfied now that the room was not a _complete_ disaster, he turned back to Mondo, who was now lying on his back. His hand was resting over his eyes, cover his face and expression from Ishimaru’s gaze.

            Ishimaru unlaced his boots, glancing worriedly up at Mondo every so often. Mondo did not move or make any noise. In fact, the only sign he was even still alive was the rise and fall of his chest. When Ishimaru had gotten his boots off, he moved nervously to the edge of the bed. “Mondo,” he started, getting his apology ready, “I- _oomph_!”

            The air rushed out of him as Mondo looped an arm around him and pulled him down onto the bed. He hugged onto the shorter male’s waist tightly, pressing his head into the crook of Ishimaru’s neck with what could only be described as an aggressive cuddle. Ishimaru did his best to recover from his surprise. He had planned to get into the bed with Mondo, just not quite so abruptly. He wrapped his arms around Mondo as best he could. “I am so sorry,” he started again, taking a shaky tear-filled breath, “If I had known I never would have-”

            “S’not your fault,” Mondo cut in still pressed against Ishimaru’s neck, his muffled voice still teary, “you don’t have to ‘pologize.”

            “But if I hadn’t-”

            “Shut up. It’s not your fault,” Mondo said, firmer, pulling back to look at the crying hall monitor, “It’s that heartless bastard who wrote the book- what’s his name?”

            “Fred Gipson,” Ishimaru responded promptly.

            “Yeah, fuckin’ sadist. Fuck him,” he went back to his previous position.

            “Thank you,” Ishimaru whispered, smiling through his tears. He wiped them away and took a few deep breaths. As he was getting himself under control, Mondo mumbled something. He tried to look down, but that was made almost impossible due to Mondo’s position, “Pardon?”

            Mondo was blushing, his voice gruff as he tried desperately to keep the pleading, hopeful tone out of his voice, “Asked if you could stay here tonight. Ya know… if you didn’t have anything you needed to do.”

            For a moment, Ishimaru’s mind flashed to the projects, homework assignments, and other activities he had not even been able to start that night. He opened his mouth, then closed it. He looked down at the gang leader clutching onto him. There was a moment of indecision, then he moved. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Mondo shifted to let him prop himself up, watching the prefect carefully. Ishimaru sent a short text to his mother, letting her know that he was safe and simply working on a last-minute assignment for literature and would have to spend the night at his work-partner’s house to finish it.

            Guilty but satisfied, he took off his jacket. After carefully folding it and placing both it and his phone on the table next to Mondo’s bed, he turned to wrap his arms around Mondo again with a smile.

            Mondo’s eyes lit up and he grabbed his boyfriend, pulling him close. “Thanks,” he mumbled into the fabric of Ishimaru’s undershirt as the hall monitor ran a hand through his hair again.

            “Of course,” Ishimaru hummed soothingly, gently tugging Mondo’s hair out the ponytail holder. He kissed the top of Mondo’s head.

            Their breathing found a rhythm, slowing rising and falling in tandem until the two had drifted off into a deep sleep.

***

            A week later, with the despair-inducing “Old Yeller Incident” fading into the back of his memory, Ishimaru entered the school’s library. Chihiro, Mondo, and himself would normally meet during the lunch period to eat, sleep, and study respectively. Chihiro had yet to arrive but Mondo was there, seated at their usual table. His jacket was off; hung on the back of the chair he was sitting at. However, Ishimaru noticed that, instead of trying to fall asleep, Mondo had a book open in front of him and was reading.

            He raised his prestigious eyebrows at the biker, who had looked up as Ishimaru sat down. “What is that?” Ishimaru asked, nodding at the book.

            “Hm? Oh yeah,” Mondo, looked down at the book then back up to Ishimaru. He scratched the back of his head, “Well I figured I was bein’ kinda overdramatic a few days ago. You know, with _that_ fuckin’ book?”

            Ishimaru nodded, and Mondo continued, “Well I figured that I should give ‘The Classics’ another shot. One shitty book written by an asshole shouldn’t have to speak for all of ‘em.”

            “You are correct! However cursing is _still_ prohibited on school property, please watch your language,” he crossed his arms, tilting his head to the side, “Which book have you decided to read?”

            “S’another dog book. A little below our reading level but it seemed interesting,” Mondo picked it up, showing Ishimaru the front cover. He looked at the book. “Don’t know why it’s got a stupid name, though. What does ‘Where the Red Fern Grows’ even mean?” He looked up at Ishimaru, who looked like he had just seen a ghost, “What?”

            “Oh Mondo,” Ishimaru started, regret crossing his features.

            “ _What?_ ” he asked, his tone sharper than the switchblade he wasn’t supposed to bring to school but did anyway. Realization hit him and he shook his head, “No, no fuckin’ way. _THIS_ book too?”

            Ishimaru nodded, wincing sympathetically as Mondo cursed loudly. He raised his hands in the air for a moment, clenching his teeth. The looked at Ishimaru intensely, bringing his hands down heavy onto the wood in front of him. “Which one? Is it Old Dan or Little Ann?” he demanded with a growl.

            “…Both,” Ishimaru replied reluctantly.

            Mondo cursed again, pounding a fist onto the table. “BOTH?!” Luckily the library was empty or they would have quite the audience by now.

            Ishimaru raised a hand. “Now don’t do anything rash,” he started.

            At this point Mondo was _way_ past rational behavior. Incensed, he stood up from his chair, knocking it over with a thunk. “ _FUCK CLASSIC LITERATURE,_ ” he yelled, throwing the book across the room with a force and speed that would have made Leon jealous. It crashed against the adjacent wall, falling to the floor and laying there innocuously. Meanwhile, Mondo had started to storm out of the room, when he paused. With a growl, he stomped over and snatched the book from the ground before leaving, not even bothering to grab his jacket in his rage. He passed a confused Chihiro on his way out, only pausing to say a quick “sorry Chi” before completely marching out of the room.

            The young programmer looked at Ishimaru with a confused and worried expression. He was sighing, his head in his hands and eyes closed. After a moment Chihiro asked, “What was that about? Is Mondo okay?”

            Ishimaru looked up at the programmer with a defeated expression. “Why do they always kill the dog?” he asked, voice filled with despair. He took another oment before stand and quickly following Mondo out of the room, ready to console him, leaving the bewildered Chihiro alone in the library.

            Leon stuck his head into the library. “Why’d Ishimaru just pass me looking like he was about to hang himself?” he asked.

            “I have no idea,” Chihiro answered truthfully.

            Leon shrugged and left, muttering, “Serves him right doobie-stealing goody two shoes…”

            Chihiro stared at the doorway, helplessly confused. Doobie? Killing dogs? What had caused everyone to go crazy all of the sudden? The young student’s head shook in confusion, hair flying this way and that, before moving to go pick up Ishimaru’s bag and Mondo’s jacket.

            Maybe it was something in the water?

            Hagakure ran past the open door, sprinting like his life depended on it. He was moving faster than Chihiro had ever seen him move, knees coming up to his chest level with every step. He was screaming Leon’s name. His hair flew crazily around his head and his jacket flapped behind him like a cape. He started yelling that he “had the stuff” and since Ishimaru was “busy trying to stop Mondo from setting a book on fire” they were “in the clear.” Leon’s responding whoop sounded in the distance.

            Yeah. Definitely something in the water.


End file.
